


Shattered

by LadySorcha



Series: She [2]
Category: Dragon Age
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-10-15
Updated: 2012-10-15
Packaged: 2017-11-16 09:37:05
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,977
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/538073
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LadySorcha/pseuds/LadySorcha
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A drunken Fenris becomes a voyeur on an intimate encounter between Hawke and Anders.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Shattered

We’re back in Kirkwall. The Abomination has his arm wrapped around her waist. She’s walking so close to him that with each step her hip slides against his. My hands are clenched and I can feel my nails digging into my palms. I feel warmth and look down to see bleeding crescent shaped indentions in my palms.

We stop to say goodbye to Varric before we head back to Hightown. I keep my hands close to my sides so no one see the blood. She’ll either insist that he heal me or want to bandage my hands. If she touches me now I’ll break.  

“Thanks for coming guys. Too bad there wasn’t another dragon. It would have provided you with another story Varric.”

Everyone laughs but me. I stare at the Abomination’s hand. It’s resting possessively on her hip, holding her close to him.

“Drinks at the Hanged Man? Or perhaps the love birds would rather go home.”

Hawke smiles and gives a little wave. “Bye guys.”

They walk off. She shrieks when he sweeps her into his arms. She leans forward and kisses him. They’re completely oblivious to the stares they’re getting. He carries her off. I stare after them. I’d never do something like that. Maybe she is better off with the Abomination, who’s not embarrassed…or afraid to so openly display his feelings. He romances her.

But, he’s still an Abomination and I can’t help thinking he’ll turn on her one day. When that day comes I’ll be there. I hurt her. I can’t take it back, but I can be there if…when he does the same.  

“Come on Broody, I’ll buy you a drink.”

I shrug and follow him to the Hanged Man.    

**~~~**

I don’t know what they give me to drink. I don’t ask. I don’t care. I just drink it reveling in the burn as it runs down my throat. I drink everything they put in front of me.

I lift the next one and Isabela’s hand shoots out, grabbing my arm. “I think you’ve had enough.”

I squint at her to focus my vision. Somewhere in the back of my head a little voice is telling me to stop. If Isabelas concerned I must be pretty far gone. That part is drowned out by the agony coursing through me. My thoughts are still too coherent.

I grimace as the drink is replaced with a mug of coffee. I swallow it anyways. Then I leave, weaving a bit. Waving off their protests I step into the cool night air.

I slowly make my way towards the mansion, but when I pass by Hawke’s house I stop. I look up at her bedroom window. The window slightly open and light burning in the darkness like a beacon.

Before I give it any conscious thought I’m climbing the trellis outside her window. Mentally chiding myself. Fool. Pervert. Pathetic. Desperate. I keep climbing until I reach the ledge outside the window. I pull back as far as I can into the shadows. Leaning against the wall and peering into the window.

I give my eyes time to adjust to the sudden light. I scan the room and gasp. She’s bathing, reclined back in the tub. Humming a tune I don’t recognize. Water beads on her skin and drips down her breasts. Her long red hair wet, the water making it more wavy than normal. Pale skin flushed from the heat. It makes the light smattering of freckles across her cheeks and nose more prominent.  

It takes everything I have not to crawl through the window. To go to her and take her in my arms. To pull her slick body against mine. To hold her in my arms as she shivers when the cool night air dances across her flesh. To kiss those lips. To feel her arms around me again.

I squirm as my armor becomes a bit tight.

She stops humming and a small smile forms on her lips. For a second I think she’s smiling at me. My heart soars. Then she looks towards the door. The smile turning sultry, I know the smile is for him.

“Love?”

“In the…in our room.”

She leans farther back in the tub. Raising her knee and leaning her leg against the edge of the tub. She stretches out her other leg, rests her foot on the rim.

I hear the door open and close.

“What do you think of…” He trails off as he sees her. A sudden intake of breath and the papers in his hand fall to the ground.

His appearance a mark of his place in the house. Barefoot, a pair of breeches, and a loose fitting tunic.   

She rests her arms on the rim, bringing her breasts into view.

“Hi,” she breathes.

He walks to her and bends down to take her leg. Raising it up he kisses her ankle.

“Would you care to join me in our bed?” He asks between kisses.

She shivers. “But I’ll be cold.” A playful pout on her lips.

He runs his hand down to her inner thigh. Fingers dancing across her skin. “Don’t worry love. I’ll warm you up.”

She holds up her hand and he takes it. He pulls her up and grabs the towel from the table behind her. He wraps it around her, before lifting her into his arms. He slowly walks over to the bed and gently lays her down. He takes the towel and gently starts drying her shivering body. She watches him through half closed eyes, making small noises of contentment.    

He watches her…touches her with tenderness and a look of almost reverence.

He moves behind her and she sits up. He dries her hair and she leans back against him. He throws the towel. It lands on the floor with a wet thump. He kisses her throat. She slides one of her hands into his hair. Her breaths become more rapid as his hand slowly trails down her body. He rests his hand on her inner thigh, fingers brushing against the soft curls there.

“Yes,” she moans as she buries her face in his neck.

He slips a finger inside her. She bucks against his hand and he smiles. He slips another finger in.

She gasps, “Anders.”

He lays her down on the bed and drops down between her legs.     

I feel sick. Angry. Hurt. Confused. This is my own doing. I shouldn’t feel this way.

I should go. But I can’t. I tell myself if I move now they’ll see me. But I know it’s an excuse…

I need to see this for myself. Last night wasn’t enough. I need to hear the words.

I watch my eyes locked on them. Unable to look away. I hold my breath. My hand gripping the ledge. I feel it slice into my hand, but I don’t let it go. This will keep me grounded.

She thrashes and moans. Her hips arch off the bed. One hand fists in his hair. He keeps his eyes on her, watching her. He slows his movements and she whimpers. Then he speeds back up and she throws her head back, calling his name. Her free hand reaches to him, blindly seeking. He takes her hand and kisses it, before dipping back down.

Fresh pain claws its way through me. Such tenderness in the middle of passion. I can’t give her that. Each moment I witness between them is like a slap in the face. Each moment reassuring me that she’s gone from me.

She chants his name as she finds her release. I watch the tremors travel through her body. She pulls at him and he moves up covering her. She kisses him and clings to him as the last of the tremors subside.

Then she wraps a leg around him flipping them over, so she’s straddling him.

Her voice is drenched in desire as she says, “I think you’re wearing far too much clothing.”

“Hmmm,” he murmurs reaching up to wrap an arm around her waist. He sits up and kisses her. She pulls his tunic over his head and throws it behind her to join the towel on the floor.

She plants a kiss on his chest and squirms in his lap. “Now there’s just one thing keeping me from what I want.” Her deft fingers move between them to undo the laces of his breeches.

Her hand slips inside his breeches and he groans. She raises herself up just enough so that they can slip them off. Then she presses herself into him and he lays back. His arms lock around her, pulling her with him. She trails kisses along his chest and moves down to kneel between his legs.

He takes her hand. “No love. I want…need to be inside you,” he says with a strained voice.

She moves back up to straddle him. His hands rest on her hips. They both moan as she slides down to take him in. She braces her hands on his shoulders for balance as she begins to rock. Slowly at first, but gradually increasing the tempo. His hands slip around to grab her backside, nails digging into her soft flesh. She leans forward to kiss him. He moves a hand to fondle her breast and moves slightly so he can suckle the other one.

She gasps, “Close.”

He rolls her over and her legs lock around his waist. His thrusts are hard, driving her into the mattress. Her cries grow louder. Her nails scrabble for purchase on his back, leaving scratches. His rhythm grows more frantic. She finds her release, head thrown back crying his name. He loses all control then and his movements become frenzied, then he’s crying out her name.

He hovers above her as they both tremble, riding out the waves. Then he pulls out and drops next to her. He pulls her to him and she snuggles into his chest.

They lay there for a few minutes, dazed smiles on their faces. Then she leans over him reaching for a jar on the nightstand. The herbs she told me would prevent a pregnancy. He stops her with a hand on her wrist.

She raises an eyebrow at him. “What?”

“Don’t take them.”

Her eyes widen and her mouth opens. She stares at him trying to find words.

I struggle to breathe as I wait for a response.

“I was serious at the mining camp. Weren’t you?” He takes her hand.

She blushes and nods. “What about everything that’s going on though. The Mages and Templars are at each other’s throats. It’s all so uncertain. Should we really bring a baby into it?” She looks at him. Her voice is steady, but her eyes are filled with longing.

“This baby…our baby would be born out of love. Love between a Mage and a Rogue. She or he would provide hope that even in the darkest of times good things, wonderful things still happen.”

She smiles at him and kisses his hand. She picks up the jar and throws it across the room. It shatters against the wall.

Then she’s back in his arms whispering with a quavering voice, “I love you.”

“I love you too, always,” he says with a voice filled with such sincerity that it’s like a knife to my gut.

I move away and slowly descend the trellis. I make my way home, blind to my surroundings. It was clear before that I had lost her for good, but now… The knowledge is ever present.

She has no need for me anymore.

I’m like that jar, unneeded.

Knowing I brought it on myself makes it worse.

I finally had something good, but I shattered it.

I shattered her.

I’m shattered.

But I can’t leave her.

Shattered like that jar.

 

**Author's Note:**

> Title from the song “Shattered” by O.A.R.


End file.
